The Empath
by Arhtea
Summary: Empath - An empath is a person who has an acute or highly developed sense of empathy. In paranormal and some works of science fiction and fantasy, highly developed empathy is a paranormal or psychic ability to sense the emotions of others. Occasionally empaths are also able to project their own emotions, or to affect the emotions of others. (source: wikipedia)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter. **

The Empath

Lily Evans was gone...She had married that...that...POTTER. He couldn't even speak his name without flinching in disgust. How could someone so delicate, so beautiful and so intelligent fall for a boy like James Potter? An arrogant, stupid and cruel brat. And why could she not see, that he was right there for her? He would have taken care of her, loved her. They were meant for each other, weren't they?  
He raised the class of vodka to his lips. The colorless liquid burned his throat but this was a small price to pay for the promise of oblivion for just one night. One blessed night of no dreams, no pain and most of all no James Potter to crawl into his mind, arms wrapped arrogantly around Lily, his precious wonderful Lily.  
The little muggle bar was quiet for a friday night. There were some couples here and there, a few drunks drowning their sorrows and some ladys of questionable worth. He shook his head at the sight. Pathetic. But at least no one would ask questions and there would be no old friends to see him in this state, crying over a MUDBLOOD. He instantly regretted having thought that way of her. But tonight love and hatred for Lily Evans coexisted inside him. He could not fight them. So he cursed her and yet imagined her by his side.  
The door opened and a playful, cold, wintery breeze washed over him. He turned to look at the entrance. A tall figure closed the door behind herself and stepped into the light. She was a beautiful woman, tall and slender with a queen-like aura around her.  
She glanced around, before walking up to the bar, removing her coat and sitting down next to him. "A glass of your best whiskey please." Her voice was melodious.  
He must have forgotten himself staring at her, for she turned and smiled like a woman who knows exactly what she is. He found himself looking straight into her piercing green eyes, shining back at him like two emeralds.  
It must be the alcohol in me. She is a muggle. I would never look at a muggle that way. He tried to get her out of his mind. But she was sitting right next to him, too close not to notice the black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and the flawless skin beneath it, but most of all the woman herself.  
He ordered or rather barked at the barman for another vodka and gulped it down. He was here for a reason. And that reason was to get drunk and forget all about women. He felt the alcohol work in his body, the familiar sensation creeping over him and smiled to himself. Soon he would not feel the world no longer. At least for one wonderful night of nothing. For to feel nothing is to feel no pain and no sorrow.  
"Is she a beautiful woman?" her words surprised him. "Who?" "The reason why you are here!" He shook his head, not wanting to have this kind of conversation. "I am here, because it has been a rough week and I need to unwind!"  
She laughed, it sounded like birds singing, "Of course, and I am just here for intelligent conversation." He turned away, half mesmerized by her eyes and half angry at this choice of topic. She leaned closer to him, so close that he could smell her. She smelled like oranges and roses. "Come on, there is a reason why you came here. A girl." "Maybe!" he remembered the old muggle saying about how the best defence was attack. "What about you?" he smiled humorlessly. "Does it matter?"  
He frowned, after all she had brought up the subject. "I don't know. Does it matter why I am here?" She shrugged. "I am sure that to you it does!" "Well I am here to drink. In peace and quiet!"  
He was tired of her. She allured him and pushed him away at the same time. And he wasn't here to play games. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to finish my-" his sentence was cut short.  
She had pulled him forward and placed a subtle, sweet, enticing kiss upon his lips. His first instinct was to pull away, but instead he ran his fingers into her hair and pulled her closer.  
They left the bar without saying a word. He helped her into her coat and they walked silently, side by side through the snowy streets. He didn't even notice, where they were going. It was not of importance.  
At the door of a tall building they kissed again, this time more passionately, deeply. She led him up the stairs but as soon as they were in the hotel room, he took over, kissing her neck and undoing her dress.  
He forgot everything else, the alcohol and the strange creature in front of her had robbed him of his senses, but he didn't care. This night was his. And nothing mattered, nothing at all. Just him and this beautiful figure.  
And so for one night he found his oblivion in the arms of a woman other than Lily Evans. A woman, who left before he awoke the next morning, leaving behind only the sweet scent of oranges and roses. He never knew her name, never thought it would matter. His mind wandered back to his one true love and he never thought of her as more than a night of not having to feel.


	2. Chapter 2

"Miss Raven, what are you doing back there?" "Nothing!" Snape snatched the piece of paper from my hands and his eyes scanned it. The more he read, the more they narrowed. Finally he glared at the paper so sharply, that it was a wonder his eyes didn't burn through it. "Minus 200 points from Hufflepuff!" was all he managed to let out before storming to the fireplace and throwing the papers in. I smiled at him innocently. He glared back, attempted to say something, but then stormed out of the classroom like a VERY furious bat.


End file.
